


Investigative Journalism

by ewonder2001



Category: Smallville
Genre: BDSM, M/M, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-09
Updated: 2002-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewonder2001/pseuds/ewonder2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her LJ, Thamiris asked for porn, fisting, people tied up, and quickly. So here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Investigative Journalism

## Investigative Journalism

by Ellison Wonderland

[]()

* * *

Clark didn't like Lois' new perfume. He tried not to let his nose wrinkle too obviously as he leaned over her. 

"Gasoline, Lois? Is that the latest in investigative journalist chic?" 

"Very funny, Smallville," snapped Lois. 

Hmmn. It seemed that some people lost their sense of humor when they'd been tied up and doused with gasoline. If only Lois didn't know him well enough to be sure that he wasn't a smoker, he could have really had some fun with her. 

Clark tried to invent a reason why he'd be carrying a lighter, as he pretended to struggle with the knots. Lois' hands were tied tight behind her back but she didn't seem to be in any real discomfort. If anything, she just looked more pissed than usual. 

"Guess you won't be wearing this outfit again," said Clark. He quirked an eyebrow. Lois was known to hate beige, and never tired of pointing it out to him. "No great loss, maybe." 

Lois was all quiet, offended dignity. "It's a disguise, Clark. I was going for mousy. You know. The temp with her paperback and her secret cache of chocolate." 

"I don't think that kind of temp actually exists, Lois." Sometimes Clark had to wonder about her investigative skills. After all, she'd worked with him for two years and still hadn't lifted her eyes high enough above Superman's crotch to realise that he had Clark Kent's face. 

"Not in Luthor's company, anyway," said Lois. Ouch. The bitterness in her voice promised hours to come of drunken crying on his shoulder, martini in one hand, knickers in her other. 

"I could have told you that LexCorp secretaries all look like models," smiled Clark, deliberately pulling the knots a little tighter. 

"I would have been happier if you'd told me that they were all men," said Lois with acid in her voice. He could have used some of that acid on the knots. If he were really the clutz he was pretending to be. 

"What were you looking for anyway, that was so secret and dangerous that you couldn't bring your partner with you?" 

There was real curiosity in Clark's eyes. It intensified when he saw Lois blush. It normally took farm animals having sex to bring color to those cheeks. Clark knew because he'd taken her home to meet his folks. 

Jonathan had loved her. Martha had smiled and baked. When Clark saw the pecan pie, smothered in cream, heaped high on Lois's plate, he got the message; never bring this woman home again. His mother only threw a dangerously high fat count at women she didn't like, and the women themselves never guessed a thing. It was a foolproof system. Odd, though, that his only date who'd been served fresh fruit had been a man. Clark still got off on the memory of it, peach juice dribbling down Lex's chin, his fingers sticky but gesticulating like crazy. 

"I think she was looking for this." 

As if Clark's lust-sodden memories had conjured him up, Lex Luthor appeared from some secret passage in the wall behind Lois. He was holding up a test tube with a weird blue liquid. 

"Laundry detergent?" Clark hazarded a guess. "Get's your whites whiter than Luthor? Lex Luthor's personal guarantee?" 

Lex' grin was sharp enough to draw blood. He drew a hand across his pale forehead self consciously, before shaking the test tube and loosening the stopper. 

"No!" Lois wrenched herself free of Clark's grip, her hands still useless behind her back, and tried to head butt Lex in the stomach. 

Lex stepped back and watched with apparent amusement, his shark grin shading into a genuine smile. 

Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. Lois hadn't wanted Clark along on this assignment, and even now was throwing herself between the two men like a rabid wolfhound, worrying at its muzzle. 

"Is that...?" 

"Yes, Kent," said Lex, his smile now a vicious smirk. "It's the Gay Slut Serum." 

"No," wailed Lois again. 

"Relax, Miss Lane. You're already too late." 

"What do you mean?" asked Clark, a hitch in his voice. How was he going to carry this one off convincingly, overpowering Lex with his partner none the wiser? 

"Don't call me 'miss'," shrieked Lois at the same time, going for Lex's ankles with her teeth. 

"What I mean, Mr Kent, is that I never had any intention of setting the charming Miss Lane on fire. The gasoline was merely to fool your sense of smell, to disguise the fact that you've been breathing in the fumes of my serum since you stepped into this room." 

"Bullshit," said Clark, abandoning his polite farmboy persona. "It's just rumors. There's no such thing as a Gay Slut Serum. Besides, what would you use it for?" 

"To get into a repressed reporter's pants, for a start," said Lex, stepping around the prostrate Lois and moving closer to Clark. Calmly, with no emotion showing on his face, Lex started to rub one of his own nipples through his sheer, silk shirt. 

Clark swallowed. "Um. That would seem to have a fairly limited application." 

"Oh, there's blackmail, intimidation, fucking with people's heads. You can't imagine the satisfaction in seeing a straight congressman looking at photos of himself with another man, knowing that he climbed into that bed of his own free will, totally unable to understand or live with himself." 

"That's sick." 

"You think that's sick?" asked Lex, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, still toying with a nipple with his other. "You haven't seen anything yet." 

"What about me?" asked Lois. Clark wasn't sure if her obvious fury was from the danger to himself or the fact that the two men in the room were taking no notice of her. 

"You're a journalist, Miss Lane. You're going to be our camera. This night, this little encounter, will be forever recorded in your mind. You wanted a story? You're going to get one. At very first hand. It'll be up to you what you do with it." 

Lex's voice seemed smoother, lighter. Like a very fine honey, trickling down Clark's throat. He could almost taste it. If he just leaned over and... 

There. 

A quick swipe of his tongue over those soft lips. Lex continued to talk. Clark could taste Lex's tongue in his mouth. His cock was already hard, pushing against his black camouflage pants, thrusting blindly towards Lex. 

"Ohmigod. It's true. There really is a serum," whispered Lois. 

Her voice sounded a long way away. 

"Take off your pants," said Lex. 

Shit. That was a whimper. A very unmanly, even un-superhero whimper. 

"Yes, Lex." 

Fingers shaking, Clark snapped every button in his pants as he pulled them down, revealing Superman's gaily colored tights beneath. 

"It's started already," marvelled Lois. 

"Oh yes," gloated Lex, reaching out to squeeze Clark's bulging cock through his super-tight briefs. "It even turns a man's underwear gay." 

"That's amazing." 

Lex's fingers turned punishing, cruel. He yanked at the bright blue costume and it ripped, courtesy of Clark's hands grasping at his with desperation. Pants and costume were down around his knees in seconds. Clark's cock sprang free, big and meaty, pointing towards the ceiling. 

There were two audible swallows in the tense room. Not to mention the smell of a superman in rut, battling with the pungent gasoline. 

"Wow," breathed Lois. 

Lex just breathed, dropping to his knees, blowing softly on Clark's cock. It quivered under his lips. Each nip, each teasing lick, caused a loud, throaty moan. Clark wondered if his knees would give out. Maybe there was kryptonite in the room. Or maybe it had just been so long. Too long. 

Lex looked up through eyes turned slate, his thin cheeks framing Clark's meaty cock. It was the most beautiful sight Clark had ever seen. Lex, on his knees, worshipping him with such threat written on his face that Clark nearly came, then and there. 

"I'm going to fuck you," promised Lex, before swallowing Clark's cock in one long, languid motion. His cheeks hollowed as he worked on it, the sensations driving a spike of pleasure through Clark's brain. He never wanted this to end. Ever. 

"Yeah, right." Lois seemed desperate for attention. Even so, she hadn't crawled any closer. Nor did she appear to be trying to get away. Hadn't she turned from victim to the one who should be doing the rescue? So why was she just crouching there, watching avidly? 

"So he likes a blow job," she continued. "What man doesn't? This proves nothing. Men in prison and other single-sex environments get their cocks sucked all the time. It just..." 

Lex relinquished Clark's cock with every evidence of reluctance. Clark tried not to but heard himself whimper again. 

"Shut up." 

Clark tried to swallow his near-sobs. His cock was so hard, it ached. And his ass was suddenly like an open wound, craving, needing Lex to fill it. 

"Not you," said Lex, his smile almost kind. "You can make as much noise as you want." 

Lex turned to Lois. Clark couldn't see the expression on his face, but it had the hardy reporter cowering against the wall. "Another sound from you and..." 

Shit. Was that a lighter in Lex's hand? 

Whatever it was, it was gone in a moment, and Lex had turned back to him, studying Clark, watching his face carefully while stroking his cock with a slow, lazy grip. It was as if Clark was the only other person in the room, in the world. 

"I'm going to fuck you," said Lex, his voice low and throaty. "With my fist. I am going to stick my arm in your ass up to my elbow. And you are going to beg me for it." 

Lex turned back to Lois. It was as if the world started again with that action, and Clark could breathe. Lex's words had mesmerised him. He couldn't want that, could he? He'd never done anything like it. Never. He watched the back of Lex's head as if the answer were written there. He wished he could see his face. 

"Will that be proof enough of my serum for you?" 

Lois looked like she was going to cry. "Don't. Don't do that. Please." 

"Oh, he'll enjoy it, I promise you." 

This had gone too far. Secret nights in Lex's penthouse apartment, sweat flying, Lex and Clark feeding on each other like hungry lions. Stolen weekends in the Hamptons. Midnight jaunts to the castle. And through it all, Lois and the world remained oblivious. Only Martha knew. But here, now, Lex wanted to do this - this thing - to him, in front of Lois. 

Lex was smiling. He had produced a huge tub of lubricant from somewhere and was smearing it all over his fingers. His palm. His wrist. Shit, his forearm, his elbow. No fucking way. 

Clark's cover was blown, in any case. Lois couldn't have accepted that lame story about his underwear turning gay from the serum. Not even Lana at her most obtuse would have bought that one. Maybe the willing suspension of disbelief was an unsuspected power, joining the feast with his other powers like the wicked fairy, uninvited and bestowing a most unwelcome gift. Because, if Lois and the world would just wake up to the fact that Clark Kent was Superman, he could abandon the whole monstrous edifice that he'd constructed in honor of Jonathan Kent, and just openly live his life as Lex Luthor's cockslave and keeper. 

Maybe that was what this was all about. Lex was going to give Lois the story of a lifetime. 

"How Lex Luthor fist fucked Superman and turned him gay; LexCorp stock goes through roof, leaps higher than tallest building; Superman and Lex Luthor to marry in bizarre gay alien ceremony..." The possible headlines made him shudder. 

Okay. Clark was daydreaming and Lex was massaging lube into his bicep. Time to end this little encounter while Clark still had his insides intact. He knew that his skin was invulnerable. But no one had ever shot a cruise missile up his ass to see if he was just as tough on the inside. This could hurt him. Damage him even. 

Lex knew all of that. Clark could see it in his eyes, the amused, dangerous glint that had taken Clark for a walk on the wild side when he was 15 and hadn't stopped since. 

"Ready, Kent?" 

"Luthor. This has gone far enough." 

Clark wasn't prepared for the sudden attack, for Lex to hurl himself full force through the air, bringing them both crashing to the ground. 

Lex shouldn't have been able to knock him over. Nobody should be able to pin him to the floor like that, sliding a slippery finger into his exposed, sweaty ass. Not unless Clark had let him. Or there was meteor dust in the lube. Did Lex's hand and arm have a faint green shimmer to them? 

"Put your legs back over your shoulders." 

Clark kicked his pants all the way off and obeyed the command. There was something in the voice, in the air, that made him anxious. Eager. Shit, maybe there really was a gay serum. Or maybe, like a dog that knows his master's voice, he'd become used to doing what Lex ordered him to. 

"I'm going to fuck you hard, Clark. I'm going to be so far inside you that you'll feel that I'm a part of you." 

The voice was low and intimate, for him alone. A second finger slid inside him, followed quickly by a third, a fourth. Clark groaned. This wasn't much more than Lex's long, slender cock. He felt the teasing of his prostate by a slow, gentle rub, and knew that his cock was jumping at each touch. 

Lex wasn't looking at it though. He was curling his thumb into his palm and slowly, slowly pushing. 

Clark felt a burn, a hot, stinging sensation that might have been pain. How would he know? 

"Please," he begged. Make me feel it. 

Lex still wasn't watching what he was doing. His eyes had never left Clark's face. It was almost a staring contest, alpha male to alpha male, in a gasoline-scented jungle. Clark relaxed his muscles and flopped like a dying fish, enjoying the widening of Lex's eyes as Clark's ass seemed to just open up and swallow his curled hand to the wrist. 

Lex Luthor's fist was inside him. A tight, clenched force that could rip him to shreds. Meteor-lubricated. Strength inside weakness. Or the other way round. Smiling, sweat dripping from a body that had never known pain, Clark gave himself up to Lex. Total surrender. 

Lex pushed. A slow, soft exhalation of wonder. Clark guessed what that had cost Lex, it was so open and genuine. A knuckle sawed against his prostate and Clark bucked again, dropping his eyes from Lex's at last, before throwing his head from side to side. Smacking it on the floor. Trying desperately to feel something other than the incredible, intense sensation in his bowels. 

It hurt. It was real. He could feel it. 

Clark thanked Lex with his sobs. 

Lex pushed harder before slowly pulling back. 

"I love you." 

One of them said it. Clark wasn't sure which. It was muffled by a loud thud, as Lois hurled her bound body into Lex's back, screaming in anger and grief. 

Clark had forgotten she was even there. 

"Leave him alone." 

A scream was wrenched from Clark, from deep inside his gut, where Lex's fist had punched full force. It was an ironic side effect of Lois's attempted rescue. Not that either of them were in a position to appreciate the irony, with Lex's forearm buried much deeper than Clark had ever thought it could go. 

"You been working out?" he gasped. "Shouldn't have bothered on my account. I liked your arms better when they were skinny." 

The words were forced out between clenched teeth, a kind of absolution. 

So this was pain. This sharp sensation, like when he ran too fast and the very air resisted him with the force of a nuclear reactor. The only other pain he had ever known was the effect of the meteor rocks, and that never figured as sensation at all. Just nausea and weakness, slowly bleeding his life away like descriptions he'd read of freezing to death. 

"My arms were never skinny." Lex's protest was accompanied by a twist of his wrist that mashed Clark's prostate and made his cock dance in the air. 

"Miss Lane, if you persist in biting my ankles, I may slip and kill your friend. Not a nice way to go, with a punctured colon." 

Clark swallowed a laugh. There was nothing nice about this situation. 

"Fuck me." He knew what Lex needed to hear. Almost as much as Clark needed to say it. "Fuck me hard." 

"My fantasy. My pace. _You_ will do what you're told." 

The feel of Lex's hand inside him was incredible. It inched back and forwards, as sure and merciless as Lex's eyes, which bored just as deep inside him, as if Lex were the one with X-ray vision. Those eyes fucked him hard, much harder than the glacial fist. Clark's insides churned, pinned by Lex's hand and his regard, that felt so much like love. He could come from that alone, just the power of those eyes. 

"Lex." 

He screamed it, louder than Lois' sobs, coming harder even than the punch of Lex's fist inside his guts. It sounded like a curse as his cock spurted liquid fire. 

Lex looked funny, wiping Clark's come off his face in astonishment. He could almost forget the hand inside him, easing its way out slowly now, one deadly finger at a time. There was a wet patch on Lex's pants, where he'd come without ever freeing his cock. Clark wondered what had sent him over the edge. With Lex, he could never be sure. 

"I love you." 

No doubt about which one of them had whispered it this time. But then, it was always him, wasn't it? 

"I know you do, Lex. I just wish..." 

"Get up, Mr Kent. You are free to go. The serum will wear off in a few hours. In the meantime, I'd avoid Club Zero if I were you." 

Clark got up on his knees, moving stiffly, avoiding Lois's anguished eyes. She would be expecting him to hurt, so he tried to make it look as if he were in agony. But it was fading already, both the pleasure and the pain, muting into an almost happy glow. 

"Clark?" Sharp and anxious. Maybe his acting was getting better. 

"I'm alright, Lex." 

Kneeling on the floor, he leaned forward carefully and kissed Lex's dripping fist. 

"Thank you. I love you too." 

"That's the serum talking," snapped Lois. He spared her a quick look. Her eyes were darting around with the desperation of a hunted animal. "For God's sake, Luthor, let us go. I've got to get Clark to a hospital." 

Clark laughed. He couldn't help it. Lois looked so indignant, as she did every time she thought she'd caught Lex out in a crime, but there was genuine distress there as well. He fished in Lex's pocket, more like a pet than ever, but he wasn't searching for a sweet. Instead, he pulled out the test tube with its virulent blue liquid, and crushed it in his bare hand. The glass was pulverised into an ever finer dust. When even that was gone, Clark licked the liquid from his steady fingers. 

"It's just colored water, Lois," he explained. "There is no serum. I'm in love with Lex Luthor. I have been since I was 15." 

"You might have said." 

Lois nodded vigorously and then stopped, as if upset to find herself agreeing with her archenemy. 

"And give you even more power over me?" 

Lex looked confused. Good. 

"Would one of you untie me? So that I can beat Clark to death for not mentioning any of this to me." 

"You did notice me pulverise that test tube with my hand, didn't you?" asked Clark anxiously. 

"Nice trick, Clark. Nicer than some of your tricks, anyway." Lois' voice had almost stopped shaking. "I want to go home, avoiding open flames, and then have a nice long bath. And spend the rest of the night not thinking about you two having sex behind my back for the past two years. And if you're injured, Clark, lover boy can take you to the hospital." 

Lex felt around in his pockets, dislodging Clark's groping hand. "Post-coital cigarette?" 

"Very funny," said Lois, edging backwards. "Were you ever planning on telling me?" 

It felt odd to be naked when Lex still had his pants on and Lois was fully dressed. Clark settled for pretending that there was nothing strange about it, getting to his feet and striding manfully over to Lois, tearing the ropes off her as if they were made of tissue paper. 

"Don't you think it odd," he asked, "that Superman and I are great friends, but you've never seen us in the same room? Ever?" 

"Good try at a diversion, Clark," snapped Lois, massaging her wrists. "I'm not buying it. You and your sugar daddy are not going to... Um, I'm going home now." 

Clark followed her eyes down to see what had stopped her in full flight. His cock was leaking on her pants leg. It seemed that some things were beyond her capacity to ignore. 

"I'll see you home. Then I'm coming back here to fuck Lex. Luthor." 

"I know who he is." Lois moved calmly towards the door, the effect spoiled when she flinched away from Lex's proffered cigarette. 

"We can both leak on your car's upholstery," was her parting shot, delivered over her shoulder as she scuttled out the door. 

"I'll be back soon," said Clark, reaching for his pants. "Lex, that was...I mean...wow." 

Lex seemed indifferent to his enthusiasm, but Clark knew better. 

"Good. That will give me time to mix up some more serum." 

Clark laughed as he followed Lois out the door but then his heart skipped a beat and his ass twitched. And again. It felt so empty, so needy. 

Lex was kidding. Wasn't he? 

The End 


End file.
